


In Time of Need

by Antigone2283



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antigone2283/pseuds/Antigone2283
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final battle approaches, and a nervous Alistair is determined not to die a virgin!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Time of Need

Alistair stood outside the door to Solona Amell’s room, and contemplated what he was about to do – or at least, what he was about to ask for. His fist was clenched as he raised it to knock on the door. It took her a moment to respond, only a heartbeat really, but it was enough for his faltering nerve to slip. He started to turn away. The door opened.

“Alistair? What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

Alistair froze, the words he’d practiced so diligently in his room stuck in his throat. He stared at her, like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a hungry predator. “Nothing. Nothing’s the matter.”

“It’s late, Alistair...” the mage frowned at him, “Is there something you need, then?”

She had already undressed for bed, and instead of her heavy mage robes, she wore a silken dressing gown, as pale as her ivory skin. Her short, dark curls were tussled and wild. Glittering grey eyes studied him, curiosity bordering on annoyance.

“Yes,” Alistair managed, and cleared his throat. “There is, actually. May I come in?”

Solona hesitated only a moment, and then nodded. Wordlessly, she stepped back and opened the door wider, allowing him passage. It took every ounce of his will to step across the threshold into her room, and when she closed the door behind him, his heart leapt to his throat.

“Wine?” she queried, while taking a carafe from atop the mantel and pouring herself a glass.

“No,” he answered, and then after a moment’s hesitation, “Yes. Yes please.”

Solona cocked one elegant eyebrow at him, but poured him a glass all the same. Her gaze was penetrating as she handed it to him. “You’re sweating. Are you ill?”

Alistair shook his head, and took a long swallow of wine. He could feel its warmth all the way down to his stomach. “No...I’m not ill. I...I have....” His mouth was suddenly very dry, his tongue moving thickly. Grimacing he took another long swallow.

His fellow Warden was stunning to behold. Her features were finely etched, almost aristocratic, with high cheekbones and a gently upturned nose. She had a small mouth, but full lips that she had a habit of parting just so. Her eyes were a stormy grey, her lashes dark and full. She was slender, and as Zevran had put it, had ‘curves in all the right places,’ with flawless ivory skin that flushed delightfully in the heat of battle. All of these things had drawn Alistair’s attention the moment they had met, and had distracted him ever since. Unfortunately, the only thing she’d noticed about him had been his Templar training, and she’d held it against him ever since. She was cool with him, professional, but always distant. As he stared at her now, and noticed all of these things again, he felt like a fool for even considering what he was about to ask her. Her gaze was keen, curious, but she said nothing, waiting for him to say what he needed to.

“Solona, it’s like this,” Alistair managed, breaking eye contacting and moving past her to the mantel to pour himself more of the sweet, heavy wine. “We leave for Denerim tomorrow. It’ll be a brisk pace, if we’re to get there in any time to save the city.”

Still, she said nothing. Alistair soldiered on. “It’s likely the archedemon will be there. One of us will have to take the final blow.” He stood with his back to her, staring into the fire. It was easier, when he didn’t have to look at her, didn’t have to look into those chilly eyes. “It’s likely we won’t live past the final battle, certainly not all of us. Maybe not any of us.”

“You’re a cheerful sort tonight,” she began, but Alistair cut her off. The wine was giving him some courage, but he still had to speak fast, before he lost his resolve.

“I’m a virgin,” he managed, and then in a breathless rush added, “And I don’t want to die that way.”

There was silence. The snapping of the logs in the fire seemed unnaturally loud to him. He glanced up at her, and threw back the rest of the wine, setting the empty goblet on the mantel next to the nearly empty carafe.

Solona’s eyes were wide with surprise, and her lips formed a lovely, soundless ‘O.’ She was staring at him as if he’d just grown a third eye or a second head. Finally, she spoke, and he’d never heard or seen or so taken off her guard. “So...so why are you here, Alistair? I mean, why are you here, in my room?” She pulled her dressing gown around her tightly.

Alistair turned to face her, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, doing his best to appear confidant, or at least, not as terrified as he felt. “Because I was hoping...that you would oblige me.”

The mage’s eyes widened a trifle more, and then she blinked several times. “Oblige, you? Oblige? You?” She laughed harshly, a high, nervous sound, “Alistair, oblige you? You’re asking me to...fuck you!”

The virginal ex-Templar blushed at her crude vernacular, but held firm. “Yes,” he answered her, only a tiny quiver to his voice. “I am.”

She laughed again, and then, startling him, strode towards him. She moved past him, however, and reached for what remained of the wine, emptying the contents of the carafe into her glass. It was her turn to drink deeply. She was standing very close to him, and she turned her head looking up at him. “’Am’ what?” she prompted.

Alistair stared, confused.

“’Am what?’” she insisted, eyes glinting. “If you can’t say it, you can’t do it. What are you asking of me, Alistair?”

Alistair desperately wanted to look away, ashamed and embarrassed, but her gaze held him captive, challenging him. “To...” His jaw clenched, and he forced the words to come, as firmly as he could. “I’m asking you to fuck me.”

He saw a glimmer of a smile on her lips, and something heated in her eyes, and then she was moving away from him, to the center of the room. “Why me?” she asked plainly, sipping her wine.

“Because....we’re both Wardens,” Alistair answered truthfully. “Because we’re in this together, and have been, since the beginning. Our fates are the same, whether we die tomorrow or not. We share the same poisoned blood.”  
She was studying him again. That she had not yet thrown him out gave him courage, and he met her eyes fearlessly. Suddenly, she smiled – not a happy, cheerful smile, but a sultry, and he thought, wicked smile. “Alright,” she said, and downed the last of her wine. “I’ll do it.” There was a sway to her hips as she moved towards him again. His heart began to pound as she stood before him, not quite touching. She reached up......but only to place her empty glass on the mantle next to his. “So....” she murmured, still smiling that secret little smile, “How would you like to....proceed?”

“I...I don’t....” Alistair stammered, suddenly breathless. It was happened more quickly than he expected. For that matter, it was happening, and that in itself was unexpected. “I don’t know.”

She gave him a knowing little look and walked away again. Solona reached the center of the room, and with her back to him, he watched her open the silken robe. She slid it slowly off her shoulders, down her back. The fabric rested just at the swell of her buttocks for a moment, and Alistair held his breath. The robe slipped lightly from her fingers, falling to the floor. She’d been wearing nothing underneath it. She turned, slowly, and Alistair only remembered to breathe again when his head began to swim.

There was no shyness in her as her fellow Warden gazed upon her naked body. If anything, there was a growing heat in her gaze. She moved towards the bed, and Alistair was fixated on her legs, long and graceful. She sat down, and with that smile still on her lips, she said to him, “Your turn.”

Alistair’s heart hammered in his chest. He didn’t have her ease and grace, his fingers fumbling with the ties of his tunic, of his trousers. He pulled the upper garment off easily, but he hesitated before pulling his boots off, and then his pants. His small clothes came off last, and he was acutely aware of her eyes on him.

“Mmm,” the mage made a noise that sounded like appreciation, and Alistair glanced up at her. Her gaze was directed downward, at his semi-aroused member. He blushed fiercely. “Not bad,” she purred, grinning up at him. She scooted back onto the center of the large bed and patted the spot next to her. Alistair felt dazed as he went to the bed, crawling onto it next to her. “Why don’t you start by touching me?”

Alistair’s licked his lips nervously. “Where?”

She laughed, though not unkindly. She relaxed back onto the bed. “Anywhere you’d like,” she answered him. “You can start here.” She pointed to her cheek. Alistair lifted his hand, and brushed his fingers against her face. Her skin was amazingly soft. “Now here,” she pointed to the hollow of her neck, and his fingers glided downward. “Here,” she continued to direct him, pointing to the spot just between her breasts, then down to her tummy. Then, her own fingers caressed the underside of her breast. “Here,” she murmured, and Alistair followed. “Here....” her fingers glided across one rosy, peaked nipple, and he mimicked her. She gave a little sigh of delight, and Alistair felt his cock twitch in response. He brushed the nipple again, and watched as her eyes fluttered closed. He experimented, rolling the tender flesh between his calloused fingers, tugging gently. He marveled at the way it stiffened at his touch. “Now your mouth,” she breathed, eyes still closed.

Nervously, Alistair bent his head and took the tip of her breast into his mouth. He sucked experimentally, and was rewarded with a happy moan from the mage’s lips. He continued more eagerly, lapping and sucking and delighting in the way her body responded. He moved to the other breast, suckling even as his fingers continued to twist and knead the other. He lost track of time, until he felt her fingers in his hair. His eyes looked upward and she smiled back at him. “Eager boy,” she praised him, looking pleased. “Come up here and kiss me.”

He did so, and those lips he’d so admired all these months were soft and warm as they pressed to his. He felt her nip at his lip, her tongue darting into his mouth, and he copied her gestures, learning as he went. She seemed to enjoy running her fingers through his hair, cupping the back of his head, while he squeezed her breasts eagerly.

With her hands on either side of his face, Solana pulled him back from the kiss. Her eyes were smoldering, and it made him tremble. “Lie on your back,” she commanded him. He moved away from her reluctantly, rolling onto his back. He was suddenly very conscious of his cock, hard and red, pointing skyward. His face was burning with embarrassment as well as desire, and his gasp was not only one of surprise as her fingers wrapped around his member. There was nothing timid about the way she gripped him, and as she began to stroke up and down, Alistair shuddered. “Oh Maker...!” he breathed, “Maker’s Breath!”

“Oh, you like that, do you?” she teased him coyly, and then it wasn’t the Maker’s Breath he was thinking about, but hers as it whispered across the burning skin of his cock. His eyes flew open and he watched in wonder as Solona’s tongue began to trace patterns across the sensitive skin. He groaned as she suddenly took him into her mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought for control. He could easily have spent himself then and there, but he wanted more. Perhaps sensing how close he was, his fellow Warden lifted her head with a smile. She crawled forward, and straddled him, but his cock was behind her, resting just in the crease of her ass. Alistair whimpered, and she grinned. She was close enough that he could smell her sex, sweet and intoxicating. “Almost,” she assured him. “But not yet.”

Solona shifted forward until she hovered just above his face. She cupped the back of his head in her hands, and gently urged him upward. Understanding, Alistair began to explore her slit with lips and tongue. She was slippery and wet, and he discovered very quickly what to do to make her jump and squirm. In short order, she was panting and moaning, and Alistair grasped her hips to hold them in place. She struggled as he licked and lapped at the tender little nub that seemed to give her the most pleasure.

“Alistair!” she gasped, several times, but he was unrelenting. When he tentatively thrust his fingers inside of her, her body suddenly tensed and she cried out. Her slick passage tightened around his fingers, pulsing hard. She trembled a moment, gasping, and then collapsed to the bed next to him. It was Alistair’s turn to grin as he wiped her wetness from his face, and sat up. Her expression was blissful as he crawled on top of her. He nudged her legs open, and seizing hold of his cock, rubbed it against her wet folds. His need was almost painful, but he hesitated.

“Now,” she urged, sensing his nervousness. She grinned, “You’ve well earned it.” She guided his hand and his cock so that he rested just inside of her. She was watching him with those smoldering eyes again, and he was trembling. He licked his lips, and then slowly began to push his way inside. The sudden and complete pleasure of it made him shudder, and he thrust the rest of the way in, grinding against her. She made a noise of delight, and arched against him. He drew back, slowly, wonderingly. She squeezed him so tightly, and it was like velvet against his skin. He drove into her again, and a hiss of air escaped her lips.

“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly, worried.  
When she opened her eyes and their gazes locked, it made his head swim. “Not nearly enough,” she said with a teasing grin. Her legs wrapped around him and she squirmed against him encouragingly.

“Am....am I doing it right?”

She laughed gently, “Oh yes. You’re doing it right. Quit worrying, and fuck me!”

Alistair needed no further urging. His need was almost overwhelming, but he forced himself to go slow, convinced that it was the right way to do it, and wanting to savor the experience. Solona’s moans were becoming more urgent, and she bucked against him enticingly. She pulled her knees back towards her chest, and suddenly, he was deeper, and she was whimpering and begging him, “Harder!” He obliged, but she kept begging for more. “Please! Please Alistair!”

He found his hands encircling her ankles, pushing back her legs, spreading them wider, opening her further. Her whimpers and moans became louder, and his thrusting became deeper and harder. She put her hands between her legs and began rubbing at that little nub he’d found with his tongue. He recognized the sounds of her escalating pleasure and he began to drive into her faster and faster, grunting and panting. Once again, her body tensed and she cried out, but this time he felt her pulsing muscles squeezing his cock, making her tighter than ever. As she shuddered and arched against him, he came, burying himself deep inside of her as his cock spasmed and flooded her with seed. Blood roared in his ears, and the pleasure was so intense he thought for a moment that he might black out. Gasping he sagged against her, both of them panting and sticky with sweat.

They lay like that for a long time, until the waves of pleasure had subsided, and their breathing had settled. Alistair rolled off of the mage, his fellow Warden, and felt his now-softened cock slide from between her legs. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Thank you,” he managed in a hoarse whisper.

“You can stay if you want,” Solona replied, rolling onto her side. He turned his head to look at her, surprised. She grinned. “I’m not saying we should get married and have a bunch of little Templars and mages or anything. Just...if you’d like to sleep here tonight, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

All of her hard edges were gone, and with it the coldness, the aloofness. For the first time, Alistair recognized something vulnerable and small in her stare. She was scared, too, dreading what the coming battle would bring.

“Okay,” he said, with a casualness he didn’t feel, and shrugged. “My room is kind of cold so...that’d be nice.”

She nodded. They both got up, but just enough that they could slip under the heavy blankets of the bed. Solona put out the lamps with a wave of her hand, and the room was cast into darkness, except for the sullen glow of the embers in the fireplace.

“Goodnight, Alistair.” Solona turned on her side, with her back to him. Taking her lead, Alistair did the same, turning to face the other wall.

“Goodnight,” he replied. He closed his eyes, and tried to will away thoughts of battles. Their exertions had left him spent, and sleepy, and it wasn’t as difficult as he thought. As he was drifting off to sleep, he felt Solona shift, and suddenly, her warm skin was next to his. Alistair smiled, and back to back, they drifted off to sleep, together.


End file.
